


burn in the afterthought

by karasunonolibero



Series: college frat au [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fraternity, Explicit Sexual Content, Humor, M/M, Pining, but 90 percent of the time it's a joke/meant affectionately and everyone is cool with it, crying by plants, lots of casually throwing around the word 'slut', rumors and gossip and miscommunication abound
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:14:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22269991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunonolibero/pseuds/karasunonolibero
Summary: Oikawa returns to campus with three goals in mind. One: be the best damn frat president Aoba Johsai has ever seen. Two: take the volleyball team to nationals. Three: do something about Semi Eita. This year is going to be His Damn Year, and it won’t be His Damn Year if something doesn’t happen with Semi.~or, Oikawa has been lowkey pining for years, Semi doesn't handle feelings well, Yahaba knows too much, and everyone makes bad decisions.
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Semi Eita, Oikawa Tooru/Sugawara Koushi, past Miya Osamu/Oikawa Tooru, side Akaashi Keiji/Ennoshita Chikara/Shirabu Kenjirou/Yahaba Shigeru, side Kinoshita Hisashi/Kuroo Tetsurou, side Sugawara Koushi/Terushima Yuuji
Series: college frat au [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1579342
Comments: 12
Kudos: 42





	burn in the afterthought

**Author's Note:**

> hello and welcome to a fic that i made a deal with [enno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crows_Imagine/pseuds/Crows_Imagine) to write that's quickly getting very out of hand! this takes place during the events of [just a little taste, babe](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20800607)—you don't Have to read that one to understand this, but it'd be fun if you did, just to get the different perspectives of everything that goes on :D considering it's got fraternities, i think it's safe to say this is an american au. it's more than a bit ridiculous and self-indulgent but i hope you enjoy!
> 
> p.s. also named after stand atlantic's [burn in the afterthought](https://youtu.be/1dKMPf-9tTE)
> 
> edit: there is now a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6PYXongagwolpNPTIrWmSh?si=oJ5urpixQQ2SN-Sli7AKqQ)! :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is dedicated to bella and nix for yelling in ihop and also to liv, who made me include the word 'butt'

Oikawa returns to campus with three goals in mind. One: be the best damn frat president Aoba Johsai has ever seen. Two: take the volleyball team to nationals. Three: do something about Semi Eita.

Semi Eita. They’ve known each other for two and a half years now, and Oikawa’s had a stupid crush for at least two and a quarter of them, ever since they met at Shiratorizawa’s first rush event. The friendship they developed was forged in long nights of binge-drinking and beer pong victories, sneaking into other frat houses to steal various valuables, and streaking across campus in broad daylight. (The third incident may or may not have been when Oikawa developed his crush.) And after it all, they both received bids; Oikawa can still remember Semi texting him, asking him to accept so they could be in Shiratorizawa together. Oikawa wanted to, if only for Semi, but he also had a bid from Aoba Johsai, who he’d clicked with more, so he declined Shiratorizawa.

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, Eita!” Oikawa chirped. “We’ll see each other at parties and stuff!”

And see each other they have. Oikawa’s seen quite a lot of Semi, actually. Like sophomore year, when Nekoma held a wonderfully tacky tropical party in the middle of January and Semi showed up in nothing but a pair of tiny purple swim trunks. Or winter break junior year, when Aoba Johsai, Shiratorizawa, Dateko, and Karasuno all went on a ski trip and Sugawara from Karasuno thought it would be fun to skinny-dip in the hot tub, so Oikawa ended up in said hot tub with him, Moniwa from Dateko, and Semi.

So. They’re not strangers.

Oikawa’s little crush comes in waves over the years, fading when one of them dates somebody else, only to resurge after the inevitable breakup. It’s manageable, really.

But this year. This year is going to be His Damn Year, and it won’t be His Damn Year if something doesn’t happen with Semi.

So on the first Saturday of the school year, before they head over to the surprisingly wild Karasuno house for the inaugural frat party, Oikawa gathers his trusty wingmen to make a game plan.

“So.” Oikawa slams his hands on the kitchen counter. “Semi Eita is our target.”

Matsukawa snorts. “Are you killing him or seducing him?”

Hanamaki shrugs. “Same thing.”

“Oikawa, is this really necessary,” Iwaizumi mumbles. Oikawa ignores them all.

“Semi likes cheap beer and also tequila. He drinks that shit like it’s water. He won’t dance to Ariana—which, that’s a choice—but loses his shit to Rihanna. I’m going to ask Yaku to play ‘Shut Up and Drive’ to get him out on the dance floor. But like, after I’ve made him a drink. Tequila, then Rihanna.”

“And profit!” Hanamaki produces a bottle of blue raspberry-flavored vodka out of absolutely nowhere and plunks it on the counter. “Stop overthinking and have a drink, would you?”

Oikawa does. He has a few shots, and then some bright pink concoction courtesy of Matsukawa, and then a round of beers while he stands on the stairs and makes an impassioned speech to his Aoba Johsai brothers, and then one more shot before they all leave for the Karasuno house.

And once he gets in the door, all of his carefully-laid plans go directly to hell when Semi corners him in the kitchen. “Oikawa!” he drawls, smile easy and breath heavy with alcohol. “Good to see you again.”

“Semi!” Oikawa croaks out, reaching out to slap him on the shoulder. Except he might have pregamed a bit too much, or Semi moves as he reaches out, because Oikawa’s hand lands right on the side of his neck and drags him forward.

Semi just laughs and quirks a brow, leaning in closer. “It’s like that tonight?”

Oikawa feels his cheeks heat up, and he pulls his hand away. “Sorry, that was an accident.”

“Was it?” Semi smirks, fingertips sliding up Oikawa’s arm. “Want a drink?”

“Uh.” Oikawa clears his throat, trying to get his master plan back on track. “Why don’t I make _you_ a drink?” he says, reaching for a bottle of tequila and a red plastic cup.

Semi grins. “The way to my heart.”

Oikawa almost drops the bottle mid-pour. “I guess I just know you too well.” Smooth recovery. This is under control. This is totally under control.

And then the opening notes to ‘Shut Up and Drive’ come blasting through the speakers. Semi’s face lights up and he tugs on Oikawa’s hand. “This is my jam! Come on, we gotta go dance!”

God damn whoever tipped Yaku off early. Oikawa might be a little—more than a little—tipsy, but he does clearly remember saying ‘tequila, _then_ Rihanna.’ But he can roll with it, Oikawa thinks dimly as Semi’s hand grips his and he’s dragged onto the dance floor.

“Hey.” Semi leans in to yell into Oikawa’s ear. “You still remember the choreography?”

Oikawa’s stomach does a little flip. Shit. He hadn’t counted on Semi asking him to dance with him. “Yeah. It’s been a while, though.”

Semi laughs, curling a hand around Oikawa’s waist. “Come on. Let’s dazzle these bitches.”

Oikawa takes a deep breath, watching as Semi parts the crowd on the floor, giving them room to dance. He can do it. No big deal.

And then Semi all but tears his shirt off.

God, Oikawa would really hate for his obituary to say that he died in the Karasuno house because of Semi Eita’s abs.

“Come on!” Semi shouts at him again, launching into the choreography with ease. So Oikawa blanks his mind and lets go.

During spring break freshman year, they’d been on a _RuPaul’s Drag Race_ binge, and Semi got the brilliant idea for them to learn the choreography to the ‘Shut Up and Drive’ lip-sync. And so, after intense stretching workouts and dozens of rewatches of the clips, they did. (That might have intensified Oikawa’s crush. Maybe.) So here they are now, the center of attention with a ring of people, including Yaku, cheering them on. It’s just a good thing Oikawa is still flexible.

He can’t help, even as he’s spinning and kicking and throwing seductive looks to their admirers, doing a bit of staring himself. Semi’s movements are sharp, confident, _sexy_ , and Oikawa is only human. His gaze flits from the long lines of Semi’s legs, to the smooth rolls of his hips, up to the curve of his back when he arches.

He’s fucked.

When the song ends and they strike the final pose, the floor bursts into drunken but enthusiastic applause. A few people wolf-whistle. Oikawa tilts his head back and laughs, soaking in the attention, and catches Semi staring at him. “That was kinda fun.”

“Only kinda?” Semi’s lips quirk up in a grin. “Want to make me that drink now?”

Oikawa bites his lip as they shuffle off to the side of the dance floor and the song changes. He’s sweaty from the exertion, the adrenaline humming in his veins and making him feel a little brave. “Actually, I have a better idea.”

“What’s that?”

Oikawa winds a hand in Semi’s hair and drags him up for a hurried kiss. It’s messy and rough and their teeth collide at first, but god, it’s everything Oikawa’s been dreaming of since he was a freshman. And Semi—Semi’s kissing right back, tugging Oikawa closer by the hem of his shirt till their bodies are flush against each other. Oikawa’s focus narrows down to the man in front of him, to the press of a warm mouth against his, to the hands, hot where they sit on his waist. This is nice. This is all so very nice.

Until someone bumps into him and spills beer all over his back.

Oikawa pulls back and lets out an indignant squawk. “Hey! Watch it!”

“Sorry!” Hinata Shouyou, the shrimpy red-haired kid from Karasuno, blinks back at him with wide eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, I promise!”

Semi scoffs and drags Oikawa away. “Let’s find somewhere more comfortable.”

Somewhere more comfortable? Oikawa’s heart stutters before realizing Semi just meant the couch. He follows Semi into the living room, where it’s less claustrophobic and sticky and he feels like he can breathe again, and lets Semi drag him down to straddle his lap as he’s kissed again.

His focus shrinks to nothing but the man in front of him, and barely even that, really. All he knows are the sensations; all he can register are the happy buzz of the alcohol fogging his mind and the bass thumping through his chest and _Semi_ , the boy he’s been fantasizing about for years, solid under him and licking into his mouth like it’s his to claim. Semi’s fingers grip at his hips, tugging him closer with every pass of lips. At one point, they flip over so it’s Semi on Oikawa’s lap, and that’s when Oikawa notices Sugawara grinding on Kamasaki from Dateko in the living room. Interesting. _Scandalous_ , even. But then Semi’s burying his face in the crook of his neck, teeth scraping over his skin, and Oikawa can’t think of anything snarky to say.

Semi is a very nice kisser. His mouth is warm, lips are soft, and hands are everywhere. They never stop roaming, skating up Oikawa’s abs or curling around the back of his neck or fisting in his hair. Semi’s _everywhere_ , filling every sense Oikawa has. And god, is it good. And every time he lets Oikawa up for air, he stares at him with a burning intensity, eyes dark and lips red and shiny and kiss-slick.

Oikawa isn’t sure exactly when he stops making out with Semi and goes home, but he does know that he wakes up in his own room at exactly 8:21 in the morning when his phone beeps twice in a row. Face still buried in his pillow, he snakes his arm over to his bedside table and peers at the screen with one eye.

 **Semi [8:21]** : so…that was kinda nice.  
 **Semi [8:21]** : up for more sometime?

Oikawa lets out a weak version of his favorite dramatic scream. There’s a loud _thud_ against the wall directly behind his bed.

“Shut up and fuck quietly like the rest of us!” Matsukawa yells.

“It’s just me!”

“Then get off _quietly_!” Mattsun retorts as Iwaizumi bursts into Oikawa’s room.

“Are you dying this time?” he asks in a very bored tone.

“I just might.” Oikawa thrusts his phone toward Iwaizumi. “So the plan didn’t go to plan but we made out. And now he wants more. Profit!”

“Profit!” Hanamaki’s voice floats from down the hall.

Iwaizumi squints at Oikawa’s phone before giving it back. “Okay. And?”

“And?” Oikawa throws his arm out and smacks his hand against the wall. “What am I supposed to say to that?”

“Do you want to?”

“Yes!”

“Then tell him yes.”

“Ugh.” Oikawa sniffs. “We can’t all be cool and charming and smooth like you, Iwa-chan.”

“If you told people what you wanted, you’d probably get it. It works on the court.”

“Hey, Oikawa, wanna head to that breakfast place by the bookstore?” Hanamaki yells.

“Stop yelling!” Iwaizumi yells.

“I don’t wanna go to Liv’s. We should go to Bella’s, down the street,” Oikawa yells back. “Bella’s is open really late.”

“It’s 8:24 in the morning, Shittykawa! What do you need a place that’s open late for?”

“Why aren’t we going for coffee like normal people do at 8:24 in the morning?” Mattsun interjects, banging on the shared wall again.

“Because we’re hungover!” Oikawa shouts back.

“And in Oikawa’s case, pathetic!”

“Can you stop screaming through the walls and talk face-to-face like normal people?” Yahaba shrieks. “Some of us are trying to get things done!”

They finally end up leaving for breakfast after not one, not two, but three simultaneous moans are heard from behind Yahaba’s door.

~

Oikawa knows the next party is going to be at Nekoma, so he does his best to try to wheedle the theme out of Kuroo on the way out of Materials Chemistry on Wednesday afternoon.

“Come on, Kuroo! You have to tell me. It’s like, frat presidents’ oath.”

“It’s definitely not.” Kuroo gives him a sideways glance, but he’s smiling. “Why do you need to know ahead of time so badly? I’m gonna come by on Friday and tell your whole house, anyway.”

“No reason,” Oikawa says breezily.

“No reason at all? Sure there’s not someone you wanna dress to impress?” Kuroo teases him.

Oikawa snorts. “I don’t need to _try_ to impress anybody. I impress people all the time.”

“Okay, whatever you say. I’m still not gonna tell you.”

“What?!”

Kuroo laughs and heads down the hall toward his next class. “You’ll see!”

Oikawa pouts about it until dinner. And no matter how many times Makki and Mattsun tease him, he refuses to admit that he’d like the extra time to get an outfit together.

~

“The theme is ‘After Sex,’” Kuroo announces on Friday evening, just after dinner.

Oikawa’s jaw drops.

“What’s the theme?” Watari pipes up from somewhere in the living room.

“After Sex. So you show up looking like you do after sex,” Kuroo explains, crossing his arms and slouching against the doorframe. “Hey, Oikawa, you could take a leaf out of my book and show up with a sexy bedhead.”

Oikawa scoffs. “I use a brush, thank you,” he retorts primly.

Makki hoots. “Nice kill!”

Kuroo looks irritatingly unconcerned. “Anyway. Have fun with it!” he says with a blithe little wave.

It’s not until after Kuroo’s gone that Oikawa realizes that Semi is going to be there, looking like he just had sex. He might not make it.

~

It’s two hours until the party and Yahaba, the little gossip whore that he is, has apparently decided that now is a good time to drop a bomb of epic proportions in the Aoba Johsai kitchen.

“He did _what_?” Oikawa shrieks. 

“I said what I said,” Yahaba says with a shrug he must have picked up from Mattsun.

“Semi fucked _all_ of Nekoma?”

“At the same time?” Makki and Mattsun ask at the same time before high-fiving.

“Who the fuck did you hear that from? One of your boyfriends?” Oikawa wants to know.

“I heard it from Ennoshita, who heard it from Noya, who heard it from Yaku, who fucked Semi,” Yahaba tells him, grabbing a six-pack of beer out of the fridge. “Want one?”

“No,” Oikawa snips, grabbing one anyway. “God, who the fuck does he think he is? When did this happen?”

“No clue. Why so curious?” Yahaba has the nerve to arch a brow like he knows exactly why Oikawa is so curious.

“None of your business,” Oikawa replies, and downs half the beer in one long gulp.

Despite what Semi texted him last weekend, about wanting to do more than just make out, Oikawa’s really not in the mood to face Semi tonight. Which is stupid, really. He’s known Semi likes to sleep around, and that didn’t matter before. So Oikawa isn’t sure why the knowledge of what Semi did with the Nekoma brothers—all however many of them—is bothering him so much. He just hopes he can have a good time without having to see him. And several beers and shots before heading over should do the trick.

But he doesn’t expect to take two steps into the Nekoma house and have Sugawara Koushi pounce on him.

“Oikawa!” Suga cheers, slinging an arm around Oikawa’s neck him pulling him so close their foreheads touch. His breath is heavy with the smell of alcohol.

“Suga! You’re friendly tonight,” Oikawa teases him, pushing him off to get a look at his outfit—which isn’t much of an outfit. Suga’s in a long, loose button-down, buttoned haphazardly and slipping off one shoulder, and a tiny small pair of boxer-briefs that are only just visible when the hem of his shirt lifts. “And looking _very_ good.”

Suga grins like he already knows this. “Want me to grab you a beer?”

“Sure.”

“What happened to Semi?” Mattsun’s voice sneaks up behind Oikawa as Suga scurries off toward the kitchen.

“Fuck Semi,” Oikawa says eloquently.

“You mean Nekoma did.”

“Fuck off.”

“Can you say a sentence that doesn’t include the word ‘fuck,’ or are you already that drunk?”

“I got you!” Suga’s shout draws his attention away. He’s holding a beer can aloft. “Come here. Too crowded over there.”

Oikawa follows Suga through the house to the living room, where it’s a little brighter. He squeezes into a sliver of couch space and is pleasantly surprised when Suga casually drops into his lap. “Do you mind?”

Oikawa’s mouth works faster than his brain. “Not at all.”

“Good.”

“Hey, Suga?” Oikawa asks. Suga just stares at him in reply, licking his lips. Whether it’s subconscious or an active attempt at seduction, Oikawa can’t tell. And he can’t tell what possesses him to keep going. “Can I kiss you?”

Suga barely nods a yes before he’s straddling Oikawa’s waist and crashing their mouths together.

They’re not at all alike, Suga and Semi. Semi’s hands never stop moving when he kisses; Suga’s glide upwards to fist in Oikawa’s hair and that’s where they stay, tugging Oikawa’s head wherever he wants it to be, and Oikawa finds himself following easily. Suga knows what he wants. At least one of them does. He loses himself in Suga’s mouth, tasting something fruity on his tongue.

“What’ve you been drinking? You taste nice,” Oikawa tells him as their lips part with a wet _smack_.

“Tanaka got a hold of a fuckton of Smirnoff Ice,” Suga replies, mouth curving into a grin. “Do you wanna take this somewhere a little more private?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, standing abruptly and yanking Oikawa up with him.

“Where are we going?”

“Not far.” Suga winks at him over his shoulder, and Oikawa bites back a groan. He’s got to know how impish he looks like that.

Suga pulls him down the hallway into a small bathroom and presses him against the shut door, kissing him aggressively. He’s standing up on the balls of his feet to reach Oikawa’s mouth, which Oikawa probably shouldn’t find attractive, but he does, hands finding their way to Suga’s waist like magnets and gripping, _hard_. Suga moans into his mouth at that, and then Oikawa feels hands tugging at his jeans.

“Hooking up in bathrooms at parties, Suga? Didn’t think you were the type,” Oikawa says lightly, smirking as he watches Suga deftly undo his zipper.

“What type did you take me for?” Suga retorts, sliding to his knees and dragging his tongue across his lower lip. “No, wait, let me guess. You probably thought I was the innocent angelic type, huh?”

Oikawa helps tug his jeans down, eager to feel that tongue on him. “Kind of, yeah.”

“Everyone thinks that. I just have to show them differently, that’s all.” Suga flashes him a wicked smirk before he’s opening his mouth and swallowing Oikawa’s cock.

Oikawa’s head thumps against the back of the door, his hand tangling in Suga’s locks. He doesn’t look down, because from this angle, in this shitty fluorescent lighting, Suga’s hair looks a little like Semi’s.

~

For the second week in a row, Oikawa wakes up in his own bed after stumbling back to the Aoba Johsai house at some point. Fuck if he remembers how he got there. Everything’s kind of fuzzy after Suga sucked his brains out through his dick and the only thing Oikawa’s definitely sure of is that he didn’t return the favor. Oops.

Yahaba the Gossip Whore is at the kitchen table drinking tea when Oikawa drags himself downstairs for coffee. “Good morning, slut.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” Oikawa snaps, grabbing a K-cup and jamming it into the coffee machine. “You have two boyfriends and I _know_ you’re always having loud sex in Ennoshita’s room. I overheard Suga tell the Johzenji president.”

“Yeah, _in Ennoshita’s room_. You got your dick sucked in the downstairs bathroom of Nekoma house.”

“Which is, objectively speaking, the grossest bathroom in Nekoma house,” Mattsun interjects, walking into the kitchen in a pair of candy cane printed boxers.

Yahaba eyes him critically. “It’s September.”

“You can have fresh breath any time of year,” Mattsun says, stealing Oikawa’s coffee.

“Mattsun, rude!” Oikawa whines. Yahaba laughs and sips his tea. “Why does everyone have coffee but me?”

“Make your own,” Mattsun says.

“Says the coffee thief!”

“Stop derailing the conversation,” Yahaba says. “I want to go back to what happened in the downstairs bathroom.”

“So I got my dick sucked, what about it?” Oikawa smacks Mattsun in the shoulder until he moves away from the Keurig and puts another K-cup in. “It’s none of your business.”

“Oikawa got his dick sucked?” Kindaichi asks, trudging into the kitchen with a mighty yawn. “By Semi?”

“Not by Semi,” Yahaba informs him with a little too much glee. “By Sugawara Koushi.”

Kindaichi’s jaw drops. “The vice president of Karasuno?” Makki asks with mild interest. “Oh, nice score.”

“I didn’t mean to!” Oikawa whines. “I don’t know what happened!”

“God, Oikawa, I thought getting some was supposed to make you _less_ whiny,” Mattsun says. “But somehow you’ve gotten even worse.”

“Oikawa was just working out some frustration because Semi fucked Nekoma the other night.” Yahaba stirs his tea like he’s a YouTube drama channel. Oikawa is this close to knocking the cup out of his hand and spilling it for real.

“Semi fucked Nekoma? All of them?” Kindaichi’s eyes are as wide as a dinner plate as he snatches the coffee cup right out from under Oikawa’s nose. “Wait, what?”

“We’re not fucking talking about this again! Especially not in front of the children!” Oikawa lunges for his coffee cup, but Kindaichi swerves away.

“I’m twenty years old!”

“Don’t you have better things to do than talk about my sexual escapades?” Oikawa snips at Yahaba. “Don’t you have a fucking plant to water?”

“My pinstripe calathea is thriving, thank you,” Yahaba informs him. “You should check on your sago palm. He seemed a bit lonely last I checked.”

“Why are you snooping on my sex life _and_ my plants?” Coffee is clearly not in the cards for Oikawa this morning. Nor is a snoop-free breakfast. He grabs the entire bunch of bananas from the counter and stomps back up to his room to sulk.

~

The bombshell of Semi hooking up with all of Nekoma is still rattling around in Oikawa’s brain days later when he’s listening to his Spacecraft Engineering professor drone on about propulsion systems. He thought he was on top of the fraternity gossip, but clearly Yahaba’s surpassed him in that field. He guesses he should be proud. Yahaba is his protégé, after all, he thinks as he half-listens to the lecture, his pencil dragging along a blank page. He’s pretty sure at least three or four Nekoma brothers have boyfriends. So did they cheat on their boyfriends to fuck Semi? Or did their boyfriends know and approve it ahead of time? What the fuck goes on over the cats’ house? Is _Kuroo_ even dating anyone?

Kuroo. Kuroo would have the answers. And Oikawa knows exactly where Kuroo likes to be on Tuesday afternoons. So the moment the lecture ends, Oikawa books it to the coffeeshop next to the student center. As predicted, he spots a mess of black hair in a corner table, its owner hunched over an open notebook.

“You!” Oikawa shouts, drawing several heads in his direction, including Kuroo’s. Fine, so he’s making a scene. He’s never shied away from a good scene and he’s not about to stop now. “Your frat is full of _sluts_ , Tetsurou!”

Kuroo blinks twice. “What are you _talking_ about?” he asks. “First off, we don’t slut-shame in this house. My boys may be sluts but only I get to call them that, because I do it with _love_. Second, I’m pretty sure Karasuno’s sluttier than us since—”

“Don’t change the subject! I know that you and your entire frat fucked Semi Eita last week!” Oikawa stomps right up to his table, crossing his arms.

Kuroo squints and closes his notebook. “I didn’t fuck Semi last week. And neither did the majority of my brothers.”

“Oh, really?” Oikawa plants his hands on his hips. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Because I’m not a goddamn cheater. Why do you even care who Semi’s fucking, anyway?” Kuroo looks far too relaxed, sitting there with his chin in his hand as he sips at a cup of coffee. Oikawa doesn’t like this, any part of this. Kuroo must be dating someone, for him to say _I’m not a cheater_. But more importantly, Yahaba’s never given faulty information before. So what happened this time? Was _Yahaba_ lied to? And by whom? “Besides,” Kuroo goes on, “you got your dick sucked in the grossest bathroom of our house, so you’re one to talk, _Sluttykawa._ You know we keep Nyan’s litter box in that bathroom, right?”

A few eavesdropping students snicker. Oikawa feels his cheeks heat up, but he presses on. He’s come this far, after all. “Leave my sex life out of this!”

“You’re getting very involved in mine. And Semi’s.”

“So you’re saying you guys _didn’t_ all fuck Semi?”

“God, no, that’s what I’ve been telling you if you would stop and _listen_.” Kuroo sighs. “My boyfriend is on his way here for our weekly coffee date, so could you stop making a scene now?”

“You can stop using the boyfriend cover-up now.”

“What’d you say?”

Oikawa whirls around to see a sandy-haired guy he recognizes from Karasuno glaring at him. Kinoshita, he recalls. “Huh?”

“You giving my boyfriend shit?” Kinoshita crosses his arms, and instead of feeling threatened, Oikawa’s just delighted. Kuroo and _Kinoshita_? This is news. Finally, he’s got a leg up on Yahaba. Presumably.

“Nope!” Oikawa pastes on his dazzling smile and waves. “I was just leaving. Enjoy your date!”

~

Iwaizumi, predictably, is not happy when Oikawa slinks into the Aoba Johsai house with his tail between his legs.

“What the fuck did you do?” he interrogates as soon as Oikawa walks in the door.

“Why do you always assume _I_ did something?” Oikawa whines, kicking his shoes off and making a beeline for the freezer.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “You definitely did something. You’re looking for the cinnamon whiskey, aren’t you? You drink cinnamon whiskey when you did something and tequila when someone does something to you.”

Oikawa scowls, his fingers already wrapped around the neck of the Tennessee Honey bottle. Out of spite, he puts it back and reaches for vodka. “Where’s Yahaba?”

“Upstairs.”

“Yabaha!” Oikawa stomps to the foot of the stairs and yells up. “Get the fuck down here, you gossip whore!”

“I prefer to be called well-informed!” Yahaba peeks out from behind his door. “What do you want?”

“A word. About Nekoma.”

Yahaba scoffs. “I’m busy.”

“Too busy for gossip?”

There’s a pause. Then: “I’m coming right down.”

“Gossip whore,” Oikawa mutters.

“I heard that!” Yahaba yells back as he emerges from his room. He’s cradling his plant in the crook of his arm.

Oikawa eyes both of them with distrust. “You’re a liar,” he says flatly, grabbing a jug of lemonade out of the refrigerator.

“Wow, you’re not cutting corners today.”

“No, I’m not. Because I just had an _interesting_ conversation with Kuroo Tetsurou. Who has a _boyfriend_. In Karasuno, at that. He told me that he didn’t fuck Semi last week, and neither did his brothers. So who did _you_ hear that nugget of information from, hmm?”

Yahaba shrugs and fills the watering can by the kitchen sink. “Heard it from Ennoshita, who heard it from Noya, who heard it from Yaku.”

Great, so it’s a fucking game of telephone. This is precisely like Oikawa prefers to be nosy. He gets information directly from the source that way. He hates relying on hearsay. “Did you consider that somewhere along the line, someone’s facts may have gotten fucked?” he says, mixing the vodka and lemonade with a huff.

“Are you calling my boyfriend a liar?”

“I’m calling everyone except myself a liar because no one is bothering to tell me the truth.”

“You’re being dramatic again,” Iwaizumi calls from the living room.

“So what?” Oikawa cries. “I just want to know the details of who Semi fucked last week! Is that too much to ask for?”

“Dramatic and _nosy_ ,” Matsukawa adds.

Yahaba sighs as he waters his pinstripe calathea. “You’re telling me you went up to Kuroo and _asked_ him if he fucked Semi?”

“Of course I did,” Oikawa says as Iwaizumi walks into the kitchen with an empty coffee cup and looks Oikawa straight in the eye.

“Why do you have no impulse control.” It’s not a question.

Makki and Mattsun burst into a chorus of cackling laughter so loud they can hear it from thekitchen while Oikawa shrieks in indignation. Yahaba, for his part, just calmly refills his misting bottle at the sink. “What would you do if someone walked up to you out of nowhere and asked if you fucked someone?” Iwaizumi goes on.

“I’d answer.”

“And Kuroo said no, so, there’s your answer.”

“Well…Kuroo’s right,” Yahaba says.

Oikawa swings around in his seat to glare at Yahaba. “What?”

“I…may have made it up?” At least Yahaba has the decency to put on a sheepish grin. “I thought it would get you to do something about Semi if you knew people wanted him.”

“So you made up a story about Semi fucking _an entire fraternity_ to get me to do something? Well, it worked out great!” Oikawa throws his hands up. Iwaizumi yanks his drink out of the way. “I let Sugawara suck my dick and Semi probably wants nothing to do with me now! He definitely won’t after he hears about me calling Nekoma a frat full of sluts to Kuroo’s face!”

“You called Nekoma a frat full of sluts?” Yahaba repeats, not even bothering to hide a laugh behind his hand. “Oikawa, that’s…oh, boy. Where do I start?”

“You can start,” Oikawa hisses, snatching his drink back, “by not feeding me lies. I’m revoking your title of Gossip Whore.”

“To be fair, I didn’t even know I had that title, so it makes no difference to me.” Yahaba finishes misting his plant and heads toward the staircase. “And for what it’s worth, Karasuno’s way sluttier than Nekoma.”

Kuroo’s all the way on the other side of campus, but Oikawa can practically hear his smug cackle.

~

He can’t sulk for long, though, because Aoba Johsai is hosting a paint party in just a few days, and he has some serious planning and shopping to do. He and Matsukawa go shopping on Thursday afternoon, hitting up a local craft store for enough paint to make a mess of their downstairs and enough white t-shirts and shorts for everyone attending.

“You’re _sure_ this is a good idea?” Iwaizumi asks as they’re lining up the paint cans in the living room on Friday night, sounding very much like he thinks it’s a terrible idea.

“It’ll be fine!” Oikawa exclaims. “We’ll clean and put all the decorations away, and then put drop clothes on the floor and the furniture. Anyway, they’re _supposed_ to be painting each other, not our house, so it’ll be fun!”

Hanamaki laughs as he pries the lid off a can of purple paint. “This is totally a transparent excuse for you to slap Semi Eita’s butt in an acceptable setting.”

“It is not!” Oikawa screeches. “I found it in an article about fun frat party themes!”

Iwaizumi facepalms. “You looked up lists of party themes.”

“Our fearless leader, everyone!” Matsukawa starts clapping obnoxiously.

“Shut up!” Oikawa hisses, grabbing the bags with the clothes. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have shirts to deliver.”

“Why can’t they just take shirts when they get here?”

“You want everyone nosing around here Sunday morning looking for their clothes?” Iwaizumi points out.

“That’s why Iwa is my best friend!”

“Am not!”

Oikawa slams the door and stalks over to the Shiratorizawa house. If anyone asks, he goes here first because they’re right next door. No other reason.

He expects Ushijima to answer, or maybe that tall obnoxious redhead Tendou, but when the door swings open, Oikawa’s met with pale hair and a deadpan glare.

“Oikawa?”

“Ah, Semi!” Oikawa forces a bright smile. “Just dropping by to give you these!”

Semi’s expression doesn’t change as Oikawa thrusts the bag into his hands. “And these are…?”

“For tomorrow night’s party! It’s a paint party, so all of you wear these—they’re white—and we’ll take care of the paint.” Oikawa’s cheek is twitching from the effort it’s taking to keep his smile pasted on.

Semi peers into the bag, seeming to consider the invitation, then nods. “I’m looking forward to it,” he says, lips finally quirking up in the tiniest smile. “Thanks.”

The door shuts, and Oikawa has the restraint to walk all the way back to Aoba Johsai before jumping into the air and shouting.

He’s got a good feeling about Saturday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't really promise much of an updating schedule but...more is coming eventually, i promise! in the meantime, thank you for reading, and come yell at me on [tumblr](http://karasunonolibero.tumblr.com) if you want to talk more about this au!! we have lots of plans and i'm very excited :D


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